Amma
The lady's face in repose
Resting on the window of the speeding train
Deep set eyes, contours, soft and flowing
Framed by the halo of careless wisps of hair
Mustering ebullience after a long day of labour
Perchance homeward bound to her child.
Down memory sieve runs
In one swift motion
The countless hours you spent
Moulding the pliant clay called me.
Meera @ 12:48 AM| permalink
3 Comments:
Someone sure seems to be having a lot of time on hand!! What happened? Too many PPTs? ;-)
Its a fine piece. Really nice. Could see her face moving to the pace of the train's rattle and yaw and occasionally a hand tucking the strands behind her ear...
Miss your mom? :-)
lovely meera - jus too good...
but why this urge to decorate ur home with a plethora of musings... anybody coming home? :-)
Dear Eroteme,
Miss Amma? No I dont think so! But the lady's face, for some odd reason, brought a lump to my throat! After all, I am a sentimental stick beneath the thick hide :-)
Oi Renuka - I really have no idea what I am doing. :-)
Anybody and everybody who has to come "home", has already been, including you, aint it so ? No more special invitations to issue... ;-)
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